


moments of peace

by perfectlyrose



Category: A Passionate Woman (TV), Spies of Warsaw (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, F/M, First Meetings, Fluff, LegendsLikeStardust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-14 23:51:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10546466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perfectlyrose/pseuds/perfectlyrose
Summary: Betty enjoys the time she spends alone in her little bakery before opening for the day. One morning, she forgets to lock the door and her solitude is interrupted but she finds she doesn't mind the intrusion when it comes in the form of Jean-François.





	

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: bakery AU
> 
> an admin fill for fluffuary (bonus points if you can guess which admin)
> 
> rated all ages

Betty hummed along to the music coming from the radio in the kitchen as she stocked the display case with the morning’s goodies. She carefully arranged the selection of croissants and scones alongside the slices of various breads. She could smell the cookies she had in the oven and couldn’t hide her smile.

People were always appalled when they found out how early she woke up in order to start baking and open the shop but Betty loved these early mornings when the world was quiet and hers.

She was just finishing up organizing the leftover cookies from the day before when the tinkle of the bell over the door alerted her to a visitor.

Her head shot up and took in the tall, sharply dressed man standing just inside of her shop, taking it all in.

“I’m sorry sir, but we don’t open for another hour,” she called out.

The man’s eyes locked on her, surprise touching them as if he hadn’t realized she was there until she spoke. “I’m sorry, I just saw the light on and assumed.”

Betty smiled at him, hearing the apology in his voice. His words, lilting and accented, were careful like he was concentrating on them.

“It’s alright. Obviously, I’m already here and working. What can I get you?”

He walked over to the display she had been working on and bent over to get a better look at the pastries.

“Are those chocolate croissants?”

The way he pronounced the name of the pastry confirmed Betty’s hunch that he was French. “They are.”

“I’ll take two, please.”

“Are you going to eat here or do you want them in a bag?”

“I don’t want to be an inconvenience,” he hedged.

“You’re not,” she assured him. She turned and grabbed a plate and put the two croissants on it. “Feel free to sit wherever you’d like.”

He thanked her and sat down at the bench near the counter instead of one of the little tables she had and proceeded to start a conversation about books while Betty brewed coffee and slipped back to the kitchen to switch out the cookies in the oven for a new tray.

By the time he left, five minutes before she opened, Jean-François, as he had introduced himself, had eaten his two croissants, a scone, and a cookie straight from the oven and downed two cups of coffee. He’d been generous with the praise and the tip he left in the little jar next to the register and Betty was sad to see him go.

She might like her mornings to herself but if she hadn’t minded Jean-François’s presence at all. The next morning she made sure to leave the door unlocked again and greeted him with a grin when he walked in at the same time as he had the day before.

She could definitely get used to sharing her mornings.


End file.
